My little mermaid
by Opaul
Summary: His facade has always been difficult to see threw, even I can't always tell if he's being truthful or not." A series of drabbles about Kyoya and his wife also Tamakixharuhi rated T. "No my son there was a time when he loved me first of all..."
1. Angel made of stone

Cliché-ly it rained. A gray stillness painted over everything and cold wind blew in from the north. They had just finished lowering the casket into the grave. My mother bent over and picked up the first handful of dirt. Her hand shook as she opened it up, letting the damp clumps of dirt fall silently down into the abysmal grave. In the other hand she holds a black umbrella steadily. My mother had always been a master juggler between breaking and standing.

She turns around her face is expressionless and smooth, but tears dot her eyes. My mother seldom cries. Surprising that she is, there's was an arranged marriage; I never thought she actually truly loved him.

"Come, my son, let's go before it begins to thunder." She says quietly thick in British accent. I knew my mother was from England but….Never had I heard it. I turn around on last time. The gravediggers are quickly shoveling the hole in with earth. My eyes drift upward to the large angel that is the grave marker. She has great drooping sleeves and wide open arms. Its lips do not smile and its eyes seem to pear out into the distance, the horizon. An expression that is ominously familiar. I turn around and follow my mother back to the car waiting for us.


	2. Harp of glass

**/watch?v=uQq94k4BFe0**

**^Song talking about in story.**

Mother sits in a chair near the edge of the greenhouse. The glass walls are dotted with rain. It's winter outside so I am dressed in a wool suit

warm enough for the rest of the world. Yet the greenhouse remains as warm and sticky as an Amazon jungle even in this weather. The fabric

sticks to me.

Her harp balanced against her shoulder. Her fingers gently plucking them, I recognized the melody, but I can't remember where its from. "You play

very beautifully madam." The maid I brought with me says bowing and handing my mother a glass of water, "It's rather warm madam are you

sure you do not wish to play in the house?" Mother merely waves her away without looking up. I wait until the maid exits,

"You haven't picked up the harp since I was seven." Seventeen years ago.

Her eyes film over with tears. But none slip down her face. I gaze back at mother confused, "What happened when I was seven?"

"Hikaru Hitachiin died in a car accident." My mother's eyes drift to the rain but her fingers nimbly continue as though they have a life of their own.

Music that is light and airy, it reminds me vaguely of ocean waves lapping against the sand.

"He was a good friend of the family and him and father they went to school together," I say. Mother nods still focused on the rain, "And the

father of Emki, Hanako, and the twins Takashi, and Kiyochi." Mother nods again. I stand near the window panes my breath fogs up the glass.

"What about him mother, I must say I scarcely remember the man."

"He was close to the family and he died."

I shrug absently, "So you play whenever someone dies."

She sighs,"....He loved me , you know, as hard as it is to execpt."

I wrinkled my nose, my mother and father were like glass figurines, set on a shelf to face each other, completely separate yet together. Just like

all the other elite marriages, only unlike them they didn't divorce after awhile.

" I don't doubt that there was love between you, only that it was true love, not one of simply convenience."

My mother sighs again, smiling sorrowfully at me.

"You father, the shadow king, has a very thick facade given to the outside world I was the only person ever truly _allowed_ to see through it.

Everyone else had to under their own power, a few did, but I was allowed in through the door rather than having to jump the wall " I relax

looking back at my now grief filled mother sitting there with her harp she did indeed look like a beautiful figurine. I push my glasses up on my face.

She smiles shaking her head at me.

I open my mouth to speak. "Have you ever seen the little mermaid?"She interrupts gazing back out at the rain.

I turn to go. "Yes I've seen it, Grandma and Aunt Laren made us watch all the disney films as children when we visited her manor in England."

"No not that one the older one bases off the original Dutch fairy tale."

"No I haven't."

"Its where this song is from, near the ending, before Marina dies."

I shake my head, maybe one day her's will clear."I have―", she interrupts me again, "to get to an important meeting I have scheduled for the

afternoon." I sigh, the woman has an uncurable habit for doing that. She waves me away. "Shoo then."

As l leave I take one last glance at my mother, still staring at the rain, but eyes now bright and alive. Memories of the past I suppose.

**review :DDD please. The next one will start at the beginning.**


	3. Mission

Kyoya Ootori sat down at the breakfast table folding his hands in front of him just as the servant places a plate of a fruit down in front of him. He nods a good morning to his two older brothers and father. His eldest brother and father have the paper open, while the middle one types feverously away on a laptop. _Most likely some report for one of his college med classes_. Kyoya thinks to himself ripping apart an orange.

"Kyoya," Mr. Ootori says turning the page, "Since you're out of school on Monday for the holiday, I'm taking you out of school early on Friday, and you'll need to get all your work. We will all be going on a business trip to England this weekend. We will be meeting with the family of our British Associate; as you already know their company is needed to help us raise capital so we can start construction on new hospitals in the western hemisphere." He paused to put the paper down. "And further more our family hasn't been on good terms since the elder Lord Richard Banvard passed away. You remember his granddaughter Aurora you used to play together when you were little, impress her. It is most important that we make connections with the younger generation of the Banvard family."

"Of course father." Kyoya smiles and nods in reply.

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****Please review, another chapter hopefully by tomorrow.**


	4. Remember its never too late

**So you don't get confused. Marie's mother and a few of her Aunts are French so a lot of her cousins have French names/ blabber about in French. Her father's side of the family is English.**

"Its never too late to have a happy child hood."~ Tom Robbins

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The weather in England was beautiful, sunny and warm end of summer weather. They were at the main of the Banvard's manors just outside of London. Light shined in threw the windows in her room Marie sat in front of her vanity brushing her wavy strawberry blonde hair. "GUESS WHAT! GUESS WHAT! GUESS WHAT!" Her cousin Marjorie yelled jumping and skipping to the room.

"THE OOTORI'S ARE HERE IN ENGLAND AND ARE COMING TO AUNT BETH'S AND UNCLE JEREMY'S 35TH ANNIVISERY BALL!" Marjorie hands grasp the edge of the vanity as she jumps up into the air. "Yes, I know." Marie says ignoring her,"I've known for awhile actually." Marjorie floats back to earth, "AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!" She yells, "Why." Marie snorts, smirking at her cousin. Marjorie rolls her eyes, then sighs.

"Come on," Marie says laying down the brush, "Let's go tell everyone else so they can fan girl with you." Marjorie smiles, brightly, clapping her hands,"Yay."

Linking arms they sashay down the hallway, the long drapes thrown open adoring it in late summer golden sunshine. "I wonder if they're English has gotten any better cause my Japanese hasn't, remember how we all had to speak French when we were little." Marie smiled, "Je ne." _I do_.

"And remember Marie how we all use to play checkers in the parlor and AND remember the time we had a pretend restaurant in the gazebo."

"Only we stole real food from the kitchens―"

"AND THEN WE FORGOT ABOUT IT AND DIDN'T FIND IT TILL A WEEK LATER AND IT ALL ROTTED!" Marjorie was now skipping along ahead of Marie. "GOD I WONDER IF THEY STILL PLAY THEIR INSTRUMENTS! I REMEMBER THE ELDEST ONE WAS FABULOUS AT THE TRUMPET!" Buy now the pair had reached the wing where the rest of the French cousins were. Abella, Marie's first cousin, ran through the door. "THE OOTORI ARE COMING," she screamed. "I KNOW!" Marjorie and Abella then commenced jumping up and down together in circles squealing. Several others joined in; some merely shook their heads as Marie did as she walked down the sunny hallway_. Maybe it's a cultural difference._ No one else on earth that she knew could get as worked up over something as her French cousins did.

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**nothing meant against the French I honestly only know about snudy Parisians, which I doubt is how the whole country acts.**

**Next chapter soon ! .....please :D**


	5. A memory is what's left when something

**A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen. **

** -Edward de Bono**

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The main manor was much grander than the smaller guest one and it was decorated elaborately in orange and yellow paper streamers, lightening up the white marble floors and columns. The funiture of scarlet, blue and gold luxurious and soft, dark cherry wood floors, all strikingly different from the modern streamline decor' of his house in Japan. Two to three hundred guests chatted noisly and danced to fast pace fifties was enough food and booze for 500 though. "This is my grand niece Marie Margret Banvard," says an elderly woman who had just tapped him on the shoulder pulling him away from the conversation he was having with an elderly man about the economy in England during WWII. The woman's hair was soft silver and neatly curled, her dress baby blue to the floor with white polka dots. Her thin lips pulled into a smile.

Kyouya turns. "Nice to meet you." He smiles, slightly bowing. She curtsies formally holding up the edges of her gray dress. "Do you remember me, we used to play together along with my mess of cousins when were little," she replies in Japanese.

"Of Course." Only a half lie he thinks to himself. The memory of a small girl putting a band-aid on his pinkie finger after catching it on a rose thorn is all he can honestly remember, "Oui nous avons joué dans le jardin,"_ We used to play in the garden_ he conjures in French smiling. _None of use spoke well enough English or Japanese so we all spoke French, at least's that two things._

Marie opens her mouth to say something else but the elderly woman grabs her by the elbow. "Come on my dear we must be off,"She curtsies quickly, "there are other people I need to introduce you too." Marie shrugs as she is pulled away in to the crowd of noisy colorful people, rolling her eyes and smiling. Something hollow's out a hole in place below the bottom of his stomach; the expression on her face was eerie with familiarity.

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**review :D please. Good and bad, just don't be brutal.**


	6. Serendipity

"...Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you've found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for."- Lawrence Block

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Kyouya had managed to get away from the WWII veteran who was none too pleased when he discovered he was Japanese. He was wandering down on of the dimmer hallways, when heard what sounded like a Renaissance fair band playing. Light leaked out of the cracks of a door. Kyouya presses his ear to the door. Voices laughed and chatter loudly on the other side. He pushed open the door.

It was a medium sized room that was empty of furniture except for a single yellow arm chair and a few stereo type amps. Several people danced, barefoot, a line of cast off stilettos lay up against one of the yellow-cream colored walls, 5 played sat on the arm chair or on the amps. Amps that didn't seem to have any other use those of furniture, for all the instruments were acoustic. A violin, 2 lutes, a set of bongos, and an acoustic guitar. They all had mused hair and had loosed their formal attire. The boy playing the guitar had tied his bow tie around his head. Sevens girls ranging from 5 to about 20 or so danced around linking arms and skipping like a band of gypsies.

And the second he set one foot in the room it all stopped. "KYOUYA!!!" The three eldest girls yelled running head long at him and jump tackling him to the ground. Several others followed suit. "OH KYOUYA WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH. IT'S BEEN AGES."

"Only ten years." Kyouya says slowly suffocating under the weight; it's all a mass of arms and legs.

"Hello, "smirks a familiar face peering down at him. "I see my cousins have discovered you."

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**please review**


	7. Rose

"Flower was a good metaphor for growth. The song is obviously about sexual responsibility, so that was the main metaphor. Also, it's like knowing who someone has been and remembering and appreciating that, but really appreciating what they are now even more."

~Jody Watley

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"All right get off of him," her voice resonates in thick elegant London accent. She swishes her hands back and forth waving them off. This was obviously not something not out of the norm for her. The five or six girls scramble off of the very ruffled Ootorori. "You seem to have cut your forehead in the fall," she says offering her hand to help him up.

"I see." Kyouya reaches up and examines the blood on his hand.

"You need to stop with the attacking at this rate someone's going to sue you for battery." Her cousins look on the verge of tears.

"No matter let's get you cleaned up," she says pulling him by the hand out of the room.

Two doors down on the left she opens the door to a tiny bathroom decorated in blue wall paper. She sits him down on the side of the tub before reaching into the cabinet under the sink for a plastic first aid kit.

"This isn't really necessary I'm sure I'm fine."  
"Nonsense," Marie replies flipping open the clasps, "We have no idea where my cousins have been." She takes out some peroxide and gauze."This will sting," she comments dabbing the wound on his forehead.

Suddenly from Kyouya's perspective there was something very familiar about the whole.

"_You have no idea where those rose thorns have been." _


	8. A rich man as well

"A poor man is all schemes."

~spanish proverb

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Marie curtsy's deeply, her lavender dress swaying beautifully around her. "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Ootori, Father, Uncle James." Her smile is slightly saccharine ,but still elegant. Her Father nostril flare at her tone, but will let it slide for now. Mr Ootori, smiles,"Its nice to see your Japanese has improved greatly. Your father should consider bringing you on one of his future business trips so you can show it off in Japan sometime."

"That's quite an idea Ootori, I'll be sure to bring her along." With that the group continued down the hallway to her father's office. The smile drops from Marie's face the moment they turn around. There was a hint of of something in her father's voice. They were planning something. The rest of the family still not happy with her father reconnecting the Japanese. Her father's scheming was seldom ever welcomed.

"Marie," called Clarisse, one of her British aunts,"your mother is returning from France, she's taking you out lunch, she'll within the hour." Marie curtsied again, before fleeing. The sound of song birds floated in through the thin paned windows; the last golden remnants of summer waning. But then again Marie had always loved fall.


End file.
